I swear I'm Not
by Raving-Lunatic
Summary: The creation of a monster can only occur when we sacrifice our humanity in the face of hardship. TUE


Note: As you may or may not have guessed, I'm rather new to the Danny Fandom. I finally saw TUE for the first time today. Obviously, being a kids' show, all the opportunities for angst were rather glossed over.

Here's my version- merely an enhanced description- of how Danny Phantom because Dan Phantom.

I don't own the characters, or ideas, nor do I own "Devil" by Staind.

He tried to tell himself that it wasn't really because he cheated. Just because he scammed the answers for the test- that didn't mean they all died for his mistake. The explosion, it wasn't his fault.

At least, that's what he tried to tell himself.

"Mr. Fenton? Mr. Fenton, are you listening?"

He drew himself out of his thoughts and stared blankly up at the face of the social worker. She was a kind woman really- the motherly looking type. She probably had children at home. He wondered how old they were. Did they know about Danny Phantom? Did they say he was their hero? Did they pull at her hands and ask for one of those new plushies the shops were selling? Did they know that Danny Phantom was dead?

Stop being melodramatic. That's what Sam would say. She'd tell him to quit thinking like a character out of a movie and get over it.

What did she know? She was dead.

Mrs. Grady stared down at her newest charge with a heavy heart. He was a handsome young man- startling blue eyes in a pale face shrouded by raven black hair…but his eyes now held a certain emptiness- a callous apathy. It was a void she was all too accustomed to seeing. She went in to this line of work to protect children from pain like this but it seemed like she spent more time helping them pick up the pieces.

"Danny?"

He blinked, coming once again out of wherever it was that he'd been hiding. "Yes, Mrs. Grady?"

She sighed. "Do you have any living relatives?"

For a moment, she thought she had lost him again. His expression slackened as he went back into his thoughts, his eyes becoming glossy. Then he mumbled a reply.

"Vlad Masters."

"Is he a relative?" She checked her papers for the name, coming up with nothing.

"No- but he'll be the only one who can take me."

"Oh Danny, I'm sure he'd be willing but there is a procedure-"

"I want to go with Vlad."

Mrs. Grady slumped in her leather chair. Screw procedure. In these cases, she'd always found it was best to send the children where they were most willing to be sent.

"Are you sure?" She asked gently. "Wouldn't you rather-?"

"There's no one else," he replied woodenly.

"All right."

XXX

The heavy wooden door loomed over him, impressing upon him its great wealth and importance. It stood shrouded in the eaves of decorative stone, carved out over centuries by wind and rain into figurative gargoyles. A sensation of ancient consciousness radiated from the entire structure, adding to its massive appearance.

Danny swallowed his fear.

He stood, shaking, on the doorstep to a castle- Vlad's castle. Around him a melee of bags and suitcases were dumped in chaotic disorder. The duffle bag clutched tightly over his shoulder was the only one that contained anything of his. The rest of his possessions, and those of his family, were either stacked around him or had been sold.

He clutched the bag a little tighter.

Everything kept _moving._ Names, faces, and places…they all drifted past him in a fog. He had been certain, absolutely certain, that the world would stop. His family…his friends…they were all dead. How could life keep going, when such important elements were missing?

A week. He'd spent a week in his room- at least, that's what the counselor told him. Danny couldn't remember. All he'd known was a starving hunger- not in his stomach, but throughout his whole being.

It had felt like the whole world was raining. Shadows marched their way across the walls, passing into the foggy crest of time. He'd been a drowning man- slipping in and out of his own body as he fought the currents of misery.

When he finally woke up, he was in the hospital- Mrs. Grady waiting patiently by his side.

Now, he was here- standing on the doorstep of his self-proclaimed Arch Enemy.

Danny wanted to laugh.

There were a hundred things that could have taken his family away from him. In the end, it was a volatile vat of Nasty Sauce.

He was crying when he rang the doorbell.

The heavy wooden door swung inwards on groaning hinges, giving way to a deep, black orifice. Vlad Masters appeared in the darkness, his sad expression cut into quarters by the contrast between light and dark.

"Hello, Daniel."

Danny didn't reply.

The older man appeared uncomfortable. He cleared his throat, and stepped out onto the doorstep, picking up a bag that was slumped wearily by Danny's knee. Out in the sunlight, the teenager could see how his enemy had been suffering as well- mourning the death of Maddie Fenton. His usually groomed appearance was shabby- his suit sported faint, treacherous wrinkles, and his usually slicked-back hair was in disarray.

Danny didn't have any room for sympathy.

He followed his enemy into the enshrouding darkness of the castle walls, the rest of his bags carried in the claws, tentacles and fingers of willing servants. They winded their way through the many halls and stairways of the castle- details passing by Danny's eyes without being seen- until they came to stop in front of a large door.

Vlad and his company of ghosts easily fazed through. Danny simply stopped and stared.

After a moment, Vlad's head reappeared through the wood.

"Danny? Well, come on boy- it's not a trap."

The younger halfa only shook his head. Ignoring Vlad, he turned the doorknob, and stepped into the room.

It was just as grandiose as the rest of the house- but Danny didn't see any of this. He merely made his way to the bed, flopping uselessly onto the silken covers.

With a wave of his hand, Vlad dismissed the other ghosts and stood anxiously on the threshold to Danny's new room.

"Daniel?"

There was no reply.

Vlad cleared his throat. "Well. The bathroom is two doors down on the left- uhm, if you need anything…well, I'm sure you'll be able to find me." As he made his way out of the room, prepared to let Danny sleep off his numbness, he stopped. "Oh and Daniel? For what it's worth…I'm – I'm sorry."

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving the young halfa alone to weep into his pillow.

XXX

"Oh! Daniel, I didn't see you there." Vlad gingerly put down the device he'd been examining, removing his goggles as he did so.

The lab glittered around them, its many plasma screens flickering with information. The lights bounced off of beakers and test tubes and scrap metal all piled together in a haphazard arrangement. Vlad stood in the center of it, the Fenton inventions sprawled out around him.

Danny was leaning over his shoulder, watching as he tried to find a purpose for the BOO-merang.

"Too be honest," Vlad continued nervously, "I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever see you again."

Danny shrugged silently, and made his way over toward the Fenton Peeler.

Vlad followed him. Despite his dislike for Jack, he had no hatred for Danny. He was just a child- a child who had lost everything he held dear to him. Vlad felt within him a certain fatherly instinct to protect the younger halfa from whatever darkness was consuming him.

"Daniel? Are you sure you wouldn't…like something to eat? Maybe?" He pulled a plasma gun out of the pale, limp fingers and set it on the table behind him. He grabbed the teen by the shoulders and forced him to look at him before he could turn away. "Danny. You should eat."

Danny shrugged, staring at a point somewhere to the left of Vlad's feet. The older man sighed.

"Come along, we'll see if we can find…something." He put an arm around the skinny shoulders and directed him out of the lab.

They made their way silently to the kitchens, where a few human servants were working on dinner.

"Matilda, do you have anything for my young friend here?"

An elderly woman with her iron-gray hair up in a bun glanced down at the boy under Vlad's protective arm and smiled. Whispers of the other halfa's arrival had been circulating throughout the entire household. They'd all been wondering when they would see him. She herself had tried leaving meals outside his door, but they'd gone untouched- except by the mice.

"Certainly, Sire."

Danny was seated gently at a small table in the corner of the kitchen- leftovers from the day's lunch placed before him. He stared emptily at the soup and sandwich, his hands folded limply in his lap.

Vlad sighed from where he sat beside his new charge. "Daniel, you must eat something."

There was no reply.

"Daniel- Danny, I can't say that I understand. But don't fool yourself into thinking that you're the only one who's feeling pain for their deaths."

Still, there was no answer.

Vlad took Danny's hand, using his other one to tilt the boy's chin so that they were eye to eye. "Daniel, none of them would want to see you this way."

For a moment, there was a flicker of emotion in the younger man's eyes as he searched Vlad's face. Then, it died- quickly stamped away by a greater need not to feel. Danny was desperately trying to fight away his grief through apathy.

Vlad sighed. "At least do them the favor of trying to stay alive. Eat."

He pushed the plate toward his charge, and stood. "I'll be back later to see how you're doing."

Danny watched him go.

XXX

The young halfa sat in his room, gently stroking a teddy bear held tightly in his hands. It had wild gray hair with matching mustache, and proudly wore its little white lab coat. Its name was Bearbert Einstein.

Jazz had had the thing since before he was born. He remembered her dragging it everywhere, always talking to it- always telling it things. He wondered if she had whispered to it her secrets, even after she had reached that age where all things childish must be given away.

He twirled the mustache between his fingers, listening to the rain pound inside his head. He liked to pretend that he was in Jazz's room- that any moment she'd come barging in and declare his trespassing in her high-pitched voice. He liked to think that she'd yell at him to stay out of her room and go do something with Sam or Tucker instead. And then he'd call them up and they'd come over and they'd all hang out and eat pizza. Then his mom and his Dad would come upstairs and tell them it was time to go home, they had homework to do and a test tomorrow don't you know?

He felt like crying. He knew he should be crying. But where the tears had been, there was only a dusty emptiness. His sorrow had been carved out and emptied- dead and gutted somewhere inside him.

He didn't care. The hollowness was so much safer than the tears. He didn't think he'd survive another torrent of grief if it came- this time he'd drown. This time he'd die.

What was he doing here, he wondered? What did he have in mind?

His fingers passed through the glassy black eyes of Bearbert. He pulled them out, trembling from head to foot.

There it was.

He sobbed, the wave crashing down on him again with a vengeance. He felt misery so deep and so wretched, that no amount of tears could expunge it. He screamed, burying his wet face into the covers and crushing the poor stuffed animal to his chest. The sound echoed through the stone hallways, edged with his sobbing. He screamed again and again, struggling to release and contain the malevolent cocktail of emotions that surged within him.

Vaguely, he heard the door slamming as it opened, and footsteps running toward him. Then there were hands, forcing him to sit up- arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him tightly, providing a warming comfort he hadn't known was missing. He hadn't noticed how _cold _he was.

"Shh, Danny it's all right." Hands stroked his hair, his back, trying to soothe him. "Danny, Danny, it's all right."

He fought against the warmth, pulling away from the comfort. What right did he have to be comforted?

"No!" His mouth formed the words without his conscious control, spilling out the syllables he'd been holding in for so long. "Nothing's all right! Nothing will ever _be _all right!" He struggled against Vlad, his emotional state sending his powers into a frenzy. Half the time he went straight through his caretaker.

"Daniel!" Vlad managed to catch hold of the distraught teen's wrists, and hold him still. "Daniel, stop!"

He did. He paused in his frantic struggles, wide blue eyes meeting Vlad's dark ones. He stared at him, panting heavily as the tears ran unchecked over his cheeks. The older halfa released his hold on his wrists to wipe them away.

"Oh Daniel. Look what's become of you."

Something in Danny's spirit crumpled. He seemed to fold in on himself, his vision disappearing as the memories rose up to replace it.

"I couldn't save them," he sobbed, "I couldn't _save_- I couldn't-" he began to hyperventilate, unable to finish the one thought that had been haunting him.

Vlad sighed, pulling the distraught teen into a tight embrace. "There's nothing you could have done Danny- even with your powers. It happened too fast."

He felt Danny's head shake against his shoulder. "No," he choked out, "I could have done something- I could have-"

Vlad re-positioned himself so he could see Danny's face, his expression firm. "No, Daniel. You have to let go. They're _dead_. You couldn't possibly have done anything to save them."

He saw the young halfa's expression slacken, becoming a mask of apathy. He had no doubt in his mind that Danny was merely suppressing his emotions rather than facing them- but anything was better than watching the young man cry piteously on his shoulder. Danny stubbornly wiped the tears from his face and pulled away from his 'arch enemy'.

"I know."

Vlad sighed. "Look, it might make you feel better if you had something to do- why don't you help me in the lab? I need help cataloging your father's inventions."

For a moment, Danny's shoulders stiffened- whether from anger or sadness, it was impossible to tell. But he nodded his consent, his expression stony.

Vlad smiled.

XXX

In the end it didn't help. Scavenging through all the old memories, listening to the voices in his head that surfaced every time he picked up a new device- it nearly drove him crazy. Here was Sam, throwing him the thermos in the nick of time. There was Tucker, hacking in to Skulker's program through his handheld computer. There was another 'failed' experiment his parents had worked so hard to create but abandoned when it paid undue attention to their 'definitely-not-a-ghost' son.

The idea ended once he threw the Fenton Fisher and lodged it in the wall in a fit of depression.

He lay on his bed, staring up at the canopy and wondering.

Were they in the ghost zone somewhere? If he went there, would he be able to find them? Would they still be the same?

He was restless- he could feel the twitch and shudder of muscles willing him to move- but he denied it. He stayed perfectly still, listening to the empty sounds of a haunted mansion. The night played its dark sonata outside- the chirrup of innocent summer crickets, the whistle and coo of midnight birds swooping low through the starry skies.

He couldn't sleep anymore. He was afraid of his dreams. He was afraid to face them in his nightmares.

He'd slept only a few times since their deaths. Each encounter with his subconscious had left him begging- whispering and screaming as he leapt awake, a cold sweat pouring down his back.

He avoided repeat experiences when he could.

What would happen to him now? He wasn't a fool. He knew Vlad would find a way to coerce him to join his side- even if neither of them had anything to gain from the partnership. In his state- as confused and emotionally muddled as it was- he knew he would never be able to deny Vlad now. Who cared about good and evil when there was nothing left to fight for?

He knew one thing. He couldn't live like this. He couldn't keep going, knowing that they were dead- knowing how much it would hurt them to see him this way.

Sighing, he rolled over on to his side, and his eyes fell on the BOO-merang. He'd brought it into his room once Vlad had deemed it useless. He had been afraid that Vlad would destroy it.

Now, it sent ideas flooding his mind.

"The Ghost Gauntlets."

His voice echoed throughout the room, long after he'd left.

XXX

"Vlad!"

The older man turned from his work, looking rather silly in his white lab coat and protective goggles. He stared at Danny in incomprehension for a moment, before smiling slyly.

"Ah Daniel, decided to give it another go?"

"No," Danny confirmed quickly. "I want you to do something for me."

Vlad pulled the goggles from his face, giving Danny his full attention. "Anything Daniel."

"I want you to remove my humanity."

There was a dark, stunning silence that crawled its way between them, as the warden stared down at his charge. Danny's icy blue eyes were severe as they met Vlad's- unflinching in their demands.

"But…Danny, how-?"

The younger halfa threw him a heavy pair of metal gloves, his mouth set in a thin line. "With these."

Vlad caught the gauntlets and stared at them in horror and fascination. "Daniel, I don't understand."

"I can't keep this up, Vlad. I'll die first. So I want you to take it away- rip out my humanity, separate my human and ghost halves."

"But, Danny, what will this possibly accomplish?"

"If we're lucky?" He stared hard at the gauntlets in Vlad's hands, a faint tinge of terror lurking at the corners of his eyes. "If we're lucky, then Danny Phantom will do what he does best- and I'll die."

"Daniel, you don't even know what this will do to you," Vlad protested, picking up on the uncertainty in Danny's voice. "You don't even know if this will work at all!"

"Just do it!" Danny yelled, his voice echoing through the small metal chamber.

Vlad sighed. "This goes against my better judgment," he said lamely.

"Yeah, well you've never been a very good judge between right and wrong."

"Well, I know suicide when I see it!"

He'd meant it rhetorically. He'd said it as a retort- an outburst of anger in reply to Danny's childishness. But the boy only stared back at him in nonplussed honesty.

"It _is _suicide," Vlad said quietly.

Danny turned his gaze away, unable to meet the older halfa's disbelieving stare.

"I never thought you'd give up so easily," Vlad said softly.

Something in the younger boy softened, and he sagged against a nearby filing cabinet. "I'm… I'm not. I just…I can't," he choked, his emotions rising up in a threatening burst and then, "just do it Vlad. Just do it."

Vlad insisted that it at least be painless- he didn't think he'd be able to handle it if, in case Danny did die, Maddie's ghost decided he'd given her son an agonizing death. So they rigged up a table and anesthetics to put Danny into a deep sleep.

**He tries to sleep again and wonders when the pain will end **

**The cuts they may run deeper than his cracking outer shell**

Vlad stood before his sleeping charge, the gauntlets humming on his upraised hands. He sighed, looking at the traces of sorrow on the young man's face. Dark circles underlined his eyes, the lines of weariness and exhaustion feathering their way at the corners. He was pale and wan- a drawn expression of melancholy forever ingrained on his young face.

What kind of man would he have been had it never happened? What kind of man would he have been if Vlad had never agreed to this? What kind of man would he become?

With a deep breath, he plunged the claws of the device in Danny's chest. He felt something hook- something intangible and restless.

Vlad hesitated, his eyes seeking out Danny's sleeping face. There was an expression of slight discomfort there, as he felt the claws digging through his spirit.

With a mighty tug, the ghost of Danny Phantom was pulled from its shelter.

It steamed in the darkness of the lab, sleeping on the ends of the clawed Gauntlets. Then, with an imperceptible shiver, it stirred. Its color strengthened, a green light flickering from under a fan of white lashes.

The Ghost was waking,

XXX

The only thing it knew was pain. You could call him Danny. You could call him Phantom. He was more the latter than the former.

Ghosts are merely leftovers- they are the remains of a powerful emotion, the last emotion experienced by the soul of the dead. When a person dies in great duress, they create ghosts: after images of their pain, happiness, fear, sadness, or anger. They're like the spots we see against the backs of our eyes in the aftermath of a bright light.

Phantom was this. He'd been ripped from the soul of his creator with only one emotion in place: deep, unending sorrow. And beneath the sorrow, laboring in the undercurrents of misery, were the guilt, the anger, and the hatred.

These emotions were the driving force behind the Phantom.

XXX

It opened its eyes slowly, like a child coming awake. Then it felt the pain in its chest, the searing agony of strange fingers tearing their way through its ectoplasm. With a cry of rage it pulled away, throwing the owner of the fingers to the floor.

Vlad stared up at the image of Danny Phantom in horror. He was out of control. He had all of Danny's emotions, and none of Danny's humanity to control them.

He could smell the ghost inside of Vlad. He could remember, remember battling this visionary of evil. He knew there was power there, and if there was anything a ghost loved- it was power.

Before Vlad could stop him, the Phantom had grabbed the gauntlets where they had fallen, and thrust them on to his own hands. He smiled down at the older halfa, an expression that appeared so foreign on the ethereal features of Danny's face.

Then, Vlad felt pain- unimaginable pain, as the ghost was ripped from his body and he was tossed away, like a useless doll. He watched in horror as the last vestiges of Danny's sorrow, turned and gave him one last smile, before diving headfirst into the after-image of Vlad's own ghost.

There was a flickering of colors as the two ghost powers fought one another for supremacy.

In the end, Danny Phantom lost. The two merged, becoming one horrifying creation.

XXX

Vlad ran to where Danny lay sleeping on the metallic table. If he did anything, he was going to save Maddie's son. He quickly pulled the mask from Danny's face, stopping the flow of anesthesia, and began to lift the boy from the table.

A blast of green ectoplasm caught him in the side. He flew and hit a wall, white spots dancing dizzily against his eyes.

He watched, terrified, as the new ghost advanced on Danny's stirring form, the boy completely unaware of the horror unto which he was awakening.

XXX

At first, there were only vague shadows- lights blinking in the distance, the sound of someone calling his name. Then the shadows formed into shapes, followed quickly by definitions and coherent thought.

Danny stirred, raising himself up onto his elbows. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was or why- until he spotted the Ghost Gauntlets on the floor nearby. He remembered the experiment, the idea.

He leapt up, searching for any sign of Vlad or his ghost self.

"Boo."

He screamed and slid off the table, hitting his head on the hard metal floor. He stared up at the ceiling in expectation, waiting for the face to reappear.

It did. Danny Phantom, or what had been Danny Phantom, appeared over the edge of the table, staring down at his former self. He smiled.

"Hello."

"What-?"

"DANIEL RUN!"

Danny's head whipped around so fast he felt dizzy. He stared at Vlad where he cowered in a corner, his mind at a loss for an explanation. Fear gripped him, making his fingers shake, as he turned back to stare at the face of his other half.

"Vlad what happened?" There was something wrong there. Had his hair ever flowed like that? Had his eyes ever been that shade of red?

The ghost smiled and floated down until he was level with his former human self. "Don't answer that Vlad. Let him figure it out for himself."

"I don't- I don't understand." Danny very cautiously pulled himself to his feet, reaching around to find a plasma gun behind him. There had to be one somewhere, right?

"Of course you don't," the newer version of the Phantom hissed, "you're just a child."

It circled suddenly around him, and fired an ectoblast right between his shoulders. Danny screamed, falling forward into the table beside him. He could feel his skin burning where the blast had hit.

A punch sent him careening for the wall, where he landed in a crumpled heap. He sat up gingerly, fingering the bruise as it formed on his chin, watching with wide blue eyes as the ghost approached.

"What are you doing?" he cried frantically. "I'm supposed to be the good guy!"

"Yes, Daniel, but please try to remember that I'm not." Vlad called nervously from the other side of the room.

"That's right, little Danny Fenton," the ghost crouched down in front of him, grinning darkly. "See me and Plasmius- we're one in the same now. I can't say the Phantom planned on it when he ripped out Vlad's ghost half, but I'm sure Plasmius saw it coming."

Danny fervently shook his head; desperately trying to deny the monster he and Vlad had created. The ghost mocked him, grinning madly.

"Oh yes Danny. And you know what I'm going to do first?" He loomed over the cowering teen, raising a fist charged with glowing green energy. "I'm going to kill you."

Vlad turned away, unable to watch- but he could still listen. The screaming echoed throughout the lab, bouncing back and forth over the old inventions. Vlad felt himself trembling and praying, praying that Maddie would forgive him- forgive him for letting her only son die.

Then he turned and ran.

XXX

He looks with tired eyes at all the people hypnotized and wonders what can save him from a self-created hell

Somewhere, Danny still exists: a ghost, a vestigial structure from a spirit long since passed. Somewhere, he still hears himself, speaking: a dark voice that ages with the weather of inhumanity.

Somewhere, he still hears the screams.

**And he says,**

**"I swear I'm not the devil**

**Though you think I am.**

**I swear I'm not the devil."**

**And he says,**

**"I swear I'm not the devil**

**Though you think I am.**

"I swear I'm not the devil."


End file.
